


For all that we've got, don't let go

by BroadwayBaggins



Category: Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: F/M, Henry has writer's block, Mutual Pining, Romance, Vignette, some quality period drama hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:46:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22949554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroadwayBaggins/pseuds/BroadwayBaggins
Summary: Emma has a favor to ask of Henry.
Relationships: Emma Green/Henry Hopkins
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

The knock on the door came so quietly that Henry was almost certain that he imagined it. He froze with his pen halfway in the air, the thought that he had been trying to capture on paper evaporating like a puff of smoke. He bit back a sigh and turned toward the door, deciding that his sermon could wait a little while longer.

Words seemed so much harder to come by, these days.

“Come in,” he called softly. His back was to the door, but he heard it open, heard quiet feet step inside. He braced himself for the sharp tones of Nurse Hastings, the lilt of Matron Brannan, the meek voice of Sister Isabella…

“I’m sorry to trouble you, Chaplain.”

He nearly fell out of his chair at the sound of her voice. He and Emma had not spoken much since the night of Belinda’s wedding, the night that hope and love hadn’t seemed so far out of reach. He had not deliberately meant to avoid her–at least, not as much as he had been in the days leading up to the event–but it had evolved into a habit that was proving hard to break. A method of self-preservation, he supposed. Better for both of them that way.

Emma, it seemed, had other ideas.

It was one of the things he loved most about her.

“Em–Miss Green!” he said, feeling ridiculous. “Can I–what do you–what do you need?”

A few strands of her hair had slipped out of place. Henry clenched his hand into a fist to keep from reaching out and brushing them behind the soft shell of her ear. She was wearing a dress of dark navy (had she intentionally chosen Union colors? He thought not, but he rather liked the thought of it anyway) and there was a tear on her apron that was in need of mending. Still, she looked beautiful–radiant, even in her newfound confidence and responsibility. If anyone had thought that Nurse Mary’s absence would cause Miss Emma Green’s strength to waver, they were certainly eating their words now. 

She gave him an apologetic smile, and he wished he knew whether it was because she thought she had disturbed him, or because of his idiotic reaction to her interruption. Henry could have kicked himself.

“I’m sorry. I was wondering if you had any paper to spare?” She gave a little sigh, seeming to sink into herself just slightly. “Our supplies are running low, and Private Cady wants me to write to his mother for him…” Her voice faltered. “Doctor Hale…he says he isn’t going to make it.”

“Of course,” Henry said immediately, already moving towards her before he even realized what he was doing. The urge to comfort her was as natural to him as breathing. He stopped short just a few inches from her, certain that the look of shock in her eyes mirrored his own. “Of–of course. Of course you can have it. The paper. My paper. Take–take as much as you need, Emma.”

He shouldn’t have been so informal with her, but he couldn’t help it. Not now.

“I won’t need much,” she said quickly. “A sheet or two, that’s all. I’ve gotten quite good at making my writing smaller and my letters more succinct, so no paper goes to waste.”

“Aren’t we due for a delivery of supplies?” Henry asked quietly.

Emma nodded, although she looked unsure. “The rains have delayed what the Army was supposed to have sent, although it doesn’t have far to travel. And Doctor Foster said in his last letter that he and Nurse Mary will be sending some things. It will be interesting to see which arrives first. I’m sure it won’t be that much longer that we’ll have to make do. I would ask my parents, but…” She trailed off, looking down at her clasped hands in front of her, not wanting to continue. Henry hated himself even more, if possible, for bringing this pain back for her.

“I’m sure we’ll get both deliveries shortly. In the meantime, we’ll just do the best we can, like we always do,” he assured her. He gave her a soft, hesitant smile, one that she returned immediately, just as he had known that she would.

If only he could be as free with her feelings as she. If only he could allow his heart to speak for him, as Emma did.

“Henry?”

“Hmm?” he asked, startled out of his thoughts.

“The paper?”

“Of course! I’m sorry. I’m sorry…again.”

He turned toward his desk. His pen had leaked onto the page where he had been crafting his sermon, staining ink in an ugly blob. He pushed the ruined page aside to find the fresh ones underneath it. The two of them reached for the paper at the same time, their fingers brushing and sending a shower of sparks up Henry’s arm that only he could see or feel. He shot her a panicked look, unsure of her reaction, but she only smiled as she took the pages from him. “Thank you, Henry. It’s appreciated more than you know.”

“I know, Emma,” he said with a sigh. “I know.”

It was the most honest thing he had said to her in some time.

He expected her to turn to go, to leave him with his tempestuous thoughts once again. What he didn’t expect was to feel her hand in his, her fingers wrapping around and squeezing tight for just a moment, anchoring him back down to Earth. He didn’t expect how perfect it felt to have her hand in his, or how reluctant he would be to let her go again.


	2. Chapter 2

The last week had passed in a blur of torrential rain, of mud creeping into every possible crevice, of an endless parade of wounded and making supplies and provisions stretch as far as they could. Emma moved so quickly from one patient to the next that she scarcely had time to think about how weary she was, about the ache of hunger in her belly (Anne Hastings had, at one point, marched Emma to an empty chair and forced her to eat a hunk of bread and an apple, slipping away before Emma even had a chance to thank her). The shipment from the Army was still delayed, but a letter from Nurse Mary had broken through the deluge, promising them a respite soon. They just had to hold on a few more days, and Emma kept telling herself that even when her feet throbbed after standing on them all day, when it seemed like she lost more patients than she saved, when they were down to nearly the last of the ether…

The day the sun came out, Emma hardly noticed at first. It was only after she finished changing a dressing on a boy from Indiana, checking the stump where his arm used to be for any sign of infection, that she finally noticed that the gloom that had infested Mansion House had finally begun to lift, that the rain had finally stopped falling. She smiled and patted the boy’s shoulder–he was no older than she, and he had already nodded off and did not stir at her touch–before moving on quiet feet to the soldier in the next bed.

Although she wanted to go outside and feel the sun on her face, it was some time before she was able to leave the ward. She gently pushed her way outside and stood blinking in the sun for a few moments, unused to the brightness after so many day and nights in the dark. She shielded her eyes with one hand, breathing deep the smell of wet earth and, just beyond it, the promise of spring.

It wouldn’t be long now. Surely, better days were coming.

The streets were still a mess of mud, but Emma hardly cared. Part of her wished that her mother could see her now, in her soiled boots and Union-blue dress, no bonnet to protect her creamy complexion from the sun. She wished that Alice and Jimmy could see how far she had come now that she had escaped their home. She wished Frank–

“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Green. I didn’t know anyone else was out here.”

Henry’s voice sounded sheepish and almost guilty, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Emma turned to face him, standing there with his shirtsleeves rolled up to expose his forearms and his posture stiff, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. She watched as he went to put his hands in his pockets, then seemed to think better of it. She wished she didn’t make him so nervous.

She wished so many things could be different.

“It’s all right. I just needed a breath of fresh air. I see I’m not the only one.”

“It certainly is a comfort to see the sun again. And the delivery from Nurse Mary should come today. One can only hope that the Army’s shipment isn’t too far behind.”

“We did the best we could with what we had. I’d say we did fairly well.”

He smiled. “You did wonderfully. I mean–the entire staff.” His cheeks were flushed, and Emma knew it was not from the sun’s rays. She thought back to a few days ago when she’d come to him for paper, how his hand had felt in hers. She wanted to reach for it again now, but held back.

“Perhaps now things can get better,” she said softly. “Perhaps the worst is over.”

They stood there in silence for a moment. Emma closed her eyes, breathing in the air, relishing the warmth of the sun on her face. Her eyes were still closed when Henry spoke again.

“Miss Green. Emma. I…I have to apologize.”

“What for?” 

“For speaking to you the way I did that day. I said…unforgivable things. I don’t deserve…I do not…” He broke off, blinking his eyes furiously as if fighting back tears.

Emma took hold of his hand without a second thought. Let all of the hospital see them, let the rumors fly–she no longer cared. “It’s all right. You don’t need to–”

“Yes, Emma, I _do_. The things I said to you–I have no excuse. You have every right to be angry with me, and I do not deserve your forgiveness…”

“That isn’t true.” She squeezed his hand, and to her shock, she did not pull away. Instead, he reached out for her, gently cupping her cheek in his hand for just a moment, his thumb stroking her cheek. For a moment she was standing on the riverbank with him again, only there was no soldier this time to interrupt them, just the moon looking on as he kissed her there beside the water…

“I’m so sorry, Emma. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. Perhaps…perhaps we could start again? It’s more than I deserve, but…”

“You’re forgiven,” Emma said immediately. 

From inside the hospital came the slam of a door. Henry dropped his hand to his side, but his other remained in Emma’s grasp. Emma smiled and squeezed his fingers again. “A fresh start…I’d like that, Henry. I’d like that very much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't meant to do a continuation to this, but the prompt that fericita-s sent me worked so perfectly that I had to have it a a little follow-up!

**Author's Note:**

> Because no one does mutual pining quite like these two. Maybe one day I'll even let them have a conversation about it.
> 
> This was another tumblr prompt! Meant to be a five sentence drabble, but obviously Emma and Henry had other ideas. The prompt came from none other than the lovely tortoiseshells and I hope she enjoys it.
> 
> Title comes from "Eavesdrop" by The Civil Wars, which I've decided is basically the Emmry anthem at this point. Catch me literally sobbing on the floor about it.


End file.
